


Deathless Things That Keep On Loving

by Il-Papa-Patata (Emby_M)



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Ghost is Ghosts AU, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Mary is Special Ghoul AU, Post-ritual, Smoking, Touring, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emby_M/pseuds/Il-Papa-Patata
Summary: And even though all of them look as normal and human as they can here – Dew's flowering burn up his neck and Cumulus's pink-dyed cotton-candy hair and that lingering sense oftimein Mountain's calloused workman's hands – and even though they are all crowded in with each other, known and knowing –Swiss and him are the only ones here.-Mary muses on his long-standing thing with Swiss at some diner. Swiss helps.
Relationships: Mary Goore/Multi Ghoul | Swiss Army Ghoul
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Deathless Things That Keep On Loving

Mary looks up at Swiss.

The man sips from one of those cheap plastic cups you can get in any diner or take-out place in this country. A country that is neither of theirs but- hidden here, among thousands of shadows, of empty spaces to hide, to pass through and never be seen in again-

It could be.

And even though all of them look as normal and human as they can here – Dew's flowering burn up his neck and Cumulus's pink-dyed cotton-candy hair and that lingering sense of _time_ in Mountain's calloused workman's hands – and even though they are all crowded in with each other, known and knowing –

Swiss and him are the only ones here.

Mary watches Swiss's face break into a smile as Cumulus pops over the booth's divider, leaning over and asking him some question. Mary doesn't hear it, but hears Swiss's laughter rise over the din of everyone else, a sound that catches in his throat, sticks to his ribs like a good meal. Like his first meal after rising from his grave, that hot chocolate made with heavy cream, the one Swiss made for him and sat with him until his wailing stopped.

Rain jostles into Mary when Dew pushes against the thin man's shoulder, demanding attention and cuddles to Rain's laughing pleasure. Mary laughs too, mussing Rain's dark, bouncing curls, still watching Swiss.

Mary props his feet up on Swiss's seat, in between the man's legs. Without mentioning or making a big deal about it, Swiss makes room, reaches down and strokes Mary's ankle, still chatting with Cumulus and Aether.

Mary swallows.

A waitress comes by with another round of drinks, more appetizers – she chats with the lively group, full of chatty and friendly people from altogether more gregarious times. Swiss strokes his ankle, catches his eye and smiles when the conversation lulls enough for Swiss to go silent.

Mary takes a straw from the little holder at the end of the table for his new cup of cream soda, watching Swiss take down the basket of fresh-fried onion rings, miming keeping them away from everyone when Cumulus gets grabby hands.

 _I love him,_ Mary thinks, and there's nothing forced about it, nothing at all in the way Swiss laughs as Cumulus starts to tickle his ribs and peck little impatient kisses at his hairline, that deep hearty laugh that makes Mary want to cry sometimes.

Mary peels off a bit of the straw wrapper, putting the open end to his lips and-

The wrapper bounces off Swiss's freckled cheek, the whole rigmarole of them going silent for just a second, until they all break out into guffaws of laughter, a wide, dimpled smile blooming on Swiss's face.

-

“Hey,” Swiss greets, still smiling from inside, still warm-cheeked.

“Hey,” Mary greets, the smoke of his cigarette and the mist of his breath mingling in the brisk winter air.

Swiss says nothing more, opens up a pack of something from his shirt pocket – gum, though, not cigarettes.

Swiss leans against the parking barrier, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat – not the standard issue Ghoul one, but his own, a deep blue, leather-armed jacket that hung loose on him.

“Yesterday's show was good, huh?” Swiss says, looking forward as Mary watches his profile.

Mary shifts closer, their hips and shoulders touching. “It was,” Mary laughs, “You were in peak form.”

“Cause we got to room together again!” Swiss says, grinning and ruffling the close-cropped hair at the back of Mary's head, “This tour's been so loooong. I'm excited to go back to our home.”

Mary laughs, resting his head on Swiss's shoulder. “Our home?”

“The- the apartment!” Swiss clarifies, hand still petting, “What, isn't it our home by this point?”

“Yeah,” Mary murmurs, snaking an arm around Swiss's waist. “Yeah.”

“I think I sleep better when you're there. Or at least it's nice to wake up to find someone else there.”

“Mmhm.”

“So yesterday was nice. And better than you sneaking into my bunk on the tour bus, that's for sure.”

“Yeah.”

Swiss bends down, cocking his head to the side. “Mary?”

The winter air irritates his already-scarred lungs. The cigarettes probably don't help. Swiss quit tobacco years ago, but he was a singer anyway, and Mary could indulge a few more rushes of nicotine for a few more grains of grit in his voice.

“Mary?”

It's just.

Mary doesn't know how to handle this thing. Even this long after. To handle this unwieldy affection, to fully accept it and lean into it – there was no way on this earth to love fully and be afraid of getting hurt, and Mary doesn't know how to handle the fact that he's ready to accept being hurt again by this, by loving so much it felt like he could be cut open and Swiss would be etched into his bones and his blood-

When Mary doesn't respond, Swiss calls a different name. Just as common, but different. A name for a boy long-dead.

It is a name that no one else on this planet knows anymore. The last person who knew that name died a century or more ago, except for Swiss, a deathless thing just like him.

That boy, that long-dead boy looks up.

“You okay?”

Mary stares up at him. Swallows, the concern notched into Swiss' brow constricting around his heart but oh- somehow it doesn't feel bad at all, not at all-

Mary leans forward. Nuzzles his face into the rib-knit of Swiss's collar.

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

But his voice is wrong, raw and soft, and Swiss takes the cigarette from his hand and snubs it out before pulling Mary fully into his arms, pulling him into the front of his coat and holding on tightly.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Mm,” Mary groans, “No.”

“That's fine.”

Mary aches. He aches and aches with the sudden, overwhelming emotion, like being burned, like burning, like a fever-

But Swiss's hands smooth gently along his back. The world still turns. Inside are their friends. Their friends who love them, who are loved by them. There is a family here, made of deathless things that keep on loving.

Mary swallows, turns his face into Swiss's neck, and murmurs anything he can think to say, anything that will mean something.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
